Elizabeth, finding that Mary had arrived safely in her own country, and had been well received there, lost no time in changing her tone towards the Scottish queen. Her English resident in Scotland, was the celebrated Randolph, whom she kept as a sort of accredited spy at Mary’s court. He has rendered himself notorious by the many letters he wrote to England upon Scottish affairs. He had an acute, inquisitive, and gossiping turn of mind. His style is lively and amusing; and though the office he had to perform is not to be envied, he seems to have entered on it con amore, and with little remorse of conscience. His epistles are mostly preserved, and are valuable from containing pictures of the state of manners in Scotland at the time, not to be found any where else, though not always to be depended on as accurate chronicles of fact. To Randolph, the Queen of England now wrote, desiring him to offer her best congratulations to Mary upon her safe arrival. She sent him also a letter which he was to deliver to Mary, in which she disclaimed ever having had the most distant intention of intercepting her on her voyage. Mary answered Elizabeth’s letter with becoming cordiality. She, likewise, sent Secretary Maitland into England, to remain for some time as her resident at Elizabeth’s Court. She was well aware for what purposes Randolph was ordered to continue in Edinburgh; and said, that as it seemed to be Elizabeth’s wish that he should remain, she was content, but that she would have another in England as crafty as he. Maitland was certainly as crafty, but his craftiness was unfortunately too frequently directed against Mary herself.
CHAPTER VIII.
JOHN KNOX, THE REFORMERS, AND THE TURBULENT NOBLES.
Mary had been only a few days in Scotland when she was painfully reminded of the excited and dangerous state of feeling which then prevailed on the important subject of Religion. Her great and leading desire was to conciliate all parties, and to preserve, unbroken, the public peace. With this view she had issued proclamations, charging her subjects to conduct themselves quietly; and announcing her intention to make no alteration in the form of religion as existing in the country at her arrival. Notwithstanding these precautions, the first breach of civil order took place at the very Palace of Holyroodhouse. Mary had intimated her intention to attend the celebration of a solemn mass in her chapel, on Sunday the 24th of August, 1561, the first Sunday she spent in Scotland. The Reformers, as soon as they got the upper hand, had prohibited this service under severe penalties, and these principles of intolerance they were determined to maintain. Mary had not interfered with their mode of worship; but this was not enough;—they considered themselves called upon to interfere with hers. In anticipation of the mass, for which she had given orders, the godly, Knox tells us, met together and said,—“Shall that idol be suffered again to take place within this realm? It shall not.” They even repented that they had not pulled down the chapel itself at the time they had demolished most of the other religious houses; for the sparing of any place where idols were worshipped was, in their opinion, “the preserving the accursed thing.” When Sunday arrived, a crowd collected on the outside of the chapel; and Lord Lindsay, whose bigotry has been already mentioned, called out with fiery zeal,—“The idolatrous priests shall die the death, according to God’s law.” The Catholics were insulted as they entered the chapel, and the tumult increased so much, that they feared to commence the service. At length, the Lord James, whose superior discrimination taught him, that his party, by pushing things to this extremity, were doing their cause more harm than good, stationed himself at the door, and declared he would allow no evil-disposed person to enter. His influence with the godly was such, that they ventured not to proceed to violence against his will. He was a good deal blamed, however, by Knox for his conduct. When the service was concluded, Lord James’s two brothers were obliged to conduct the priests home, as a protection to them from the insults of the people; and in the afternoon, crowds collected in the neighbourhood of the palace, who, by their disloyal language and turbulent proceedings, signified to the Queen their disapprobation, that she had dared to worship her God in the manner which seemed to herself most consistent, both with the revealed and natural law. Many of Mary’s friends, who had accompanied her from France, were so disgusted with the whole of this scene, that they announced their intention of returning sooner than they might otherwise have done. “Would to God,” exclaims Knox, “that altogether, with the mass, they had taken good-night of the realm for ever!”
On the following Sunday, Knox took the opportunity of preaching, what Keith might have termed, another “thundering sermon” against idolatry. In this discourse he declared, that one mass was more fearful to him than ten thousand armed enemies would be, landed in any part of the realm on purpose to suppress the whole religion. No one will deny, that the earlier Reformers of this and all other countries would, naturally and properly, look upon Popish rites with far greater abhorrence than is done by the strictest Protestants of more modern times. Nor is it wonderful that the ablest men among them, (and John Knox was one of those), should have given way so far to the feelings of the age, as to be unable to draw the exact line of distinction between the improvements of the new gospel, and the imperfections of the old. The faith which they established, was of a purer, simpler, and better kind than that from which they were converted. Yet, making all these allowances, there does seem to have been something unnecessarily overbearing and illiberal in the spirit which animated Knox and some of his followers. When contrasted with the mildness of Mary at least, and even with the greater moderation observed in some of the other countries of Europe, where the Reformation was making no less rapid progress, the anti-Catholic ardor of the good people of Scotland must be allowed to have over-stepped considerably the just limits of Christian forbearance. It is useful also to observe the inconsistencies which still existed in the Reformed faith. Whilst the Catholic religion was reprobated, Catholic customs springing out of that religion do not seem to have called forth any censure. On the very day on which Knox preached the sermon already mentioned, a great civic banquet was given by the city of Edinburgh to Mary’s uncles, the Duke Danville, and other of her French friends; and, generally speaking, Sunday was, throughout the country, the favourite day for festivities of all kinds.
The mark of attention paid to her relations pleased Mary, but her pleasure was rendered imperfect, by perceiving how powerful and unlooked for an enemy both she and they had in John Knox. Aware of the liberal manner in which she had treated him and his party, she thought it hard that he should so unremittingly exert his influence to stir up men’s minds against her. That this influence was of no insignificant kind, is attested by very sufficient evidence. Knox was not a mere polemical churchman. His friends and admirers intrusted to him their temporal as well as spiritual interests. He was often selected as an umpire in civil disputes of importance; and persons whom the Town-council had determined to punish for disorderly conduct, were continually requesting his intercession in their behalf. When differences fell out even among the nobility, he was not uncommonly employed to adjust them. He was besides, at that time, the only established clergyman in Edinburgh who taught the Reformed doctrines. There was a minister in the Canongate, and another in the neighbouring parish of St Cuthberts, but Knox was the minister of Edinburgh. He preached in the church of St Giles, which was capable of holding three thousand persons. To this numerous audience he held forth twice every Sunday, and thrice on other days during the week. He was regular too in his attendance at the meetings of the Synod and the General Assembly, and was frequently commissioned to travel through the country to disseminate gospel truth. In 1563, but not till then, a colleague was appointed to him.
Animated by a sincere desire to soften if possible our Reformer’s austere temper, Mary requested that he might be brought into her presence two days after he had delivered his sermon against idolatry. Knox had no objection whatever to this interview. To have it granted him at all would show his friends the importance attached to his character and office; and from the manner in which he determined to carry himself through it, he hoped to strengthen his reputation for bold independence of sentiment, and undeviating adherence to his principles. This was so far well; but Knox unfortunately mingled rudeness with his courage, and stubbornness with his consistency.
Mary opened the conversation by expressing her surprise that he should have formed so very unfavourable an opinion of herself; and requested to know what could have induced him to commence his calumnies against her so far back as 1559, when he published his book upon the “monstrous government of women.”[47] Knox answered, that learned men in all ages considered their judgments free, and that, if these judgments sometimes differed from the common judgment of mankind, they were not to blame. He then ventured to compare his “First Blast of the Trumpet” to Plato’s work “On the Commonwealth,” observing, with much self-complacency, that both these books contained many new sentiments. He added, that what he had written was directed most especially against Mary—“that wicked Jezabel of England.” The Queen, perceiving that this was a mere subterfuge, said, “Ye speak of women in general.” Knox confessed that he did so, but again went the length of assuring her, though the assurance seems to involve a contradiction, that he had said nothing “intended to trouble her estate.”